


Star-struck

by Dealbrekker



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, I'M SETTLING ON A THEME I GUESS, MORE STAR FLUFF AND ANGST, Stars, giving you all the sappy sap sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dealbrekker/pseuds/Dealbrekker
Summary: Lucifer chose those big city lights for a reason.





	Star-struck

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again with some starry goodness! This one is longer--it got away from me in the execution but I hope it flows nicely. Once again, I'm still watching the show (now just done the 6th ep of season 3), so anything that seems off, that's why! The brief use of song lyric comes from Yellow by Coldplay. I here now apologize for the feels, but also say, You're welcome.

It started with a suggestion.

Since her acquaintanceship with Lucifer, Chloe had made many of these.

_Why don’t you come to the station to do your weird hypno thing to the perp?_

_Why don’t you stop with the metaphors and come back down to Earth for a minute?_

_Why don’t you untangle yourself from the Brittanies and act like an adult for five seconds?_

Of course, most of these were more so frustrated demands, and the metaphors weren’t exactly metaphorical anymore. As their odd relationship wound and unwound like a perpetually disfunctional yo-yo, Chloe’s suggestions had slowly unfurled, blush by blush, into more intimate proposals. Most were met with a fair bit of sarcasm and lecherous innuendo, and nearly all of them resulted in Chloe either stalking away in exasperated anger or embarrassment. The fact that she kept trying really merited a visit to Linda. If anyone understood an obsession with the literal _Devil_, it was the good doctor.

The most recent suggestion, made with genuine thoughtfulness and the mildly—okay, _completely—_terrifying hope he’d agree, was of the burning cheeks variety.

_I’m taking Trixie to the planetarium to see the new exhibit on constellations tomorrow night. You should come._

Lucifer’s deft and slender fingers crumpled over the piano keys. Chloe winced at the discordant notes, and turning toward him, she was shocked to see a shuttered, hollow look in his eyes.

“I’ve no wish to view such mockery.”

His fingers returned to their melody, and Chloe blinked in stunned silence. Normally a response like that would send her eyes rolling and her head shaking at his childishness. Snobbery was a regular trait with Lucifer Morningstar. She rather thought _Satan_ shouldn’t have a lot to feel so superior over, but she’d learned to keep that train of thought quiet. He didn’t like answering questions about his time in Hell or anything regarding his old job description at all. 

But his reaction hadn’t just been his usual sneering cynicism. This had been definitive; an ultimatum. _Do not ask me again._

So, she hadn’t. But she turned his words over and over again, even while her face grew red. Even after he’d settled, and his fingers eventually drifted elsewhere.

But she did ask Maze.

“Maybe he’s not as fond of Trixie as I thought,” she pondered while stirring the soup on the stove. Maze sat at her customary place opposite; a long-distant look fixed on her face. Chloe searched for earbuds, but the demon wasn’t wearing any. She pressed on. “Maybe he’s not as fond of me as I thought.”

Maze’s focus sharpened, and her slit eyebrow arched neatly. “Please,” she deadpanned. Chloe blushed and averted her eyes to the pot in front of her. “Maybe,” her heart fell and she cursed herself for being so obtuse. She stopped stirring and let the spoon drop. “Maybe the stars are too…”

She trailed off, not knowing the correct word to use. Heavenly? Celestial? She didn’t have to think long, because Maze had gone stiff in her seat, her features hardening into a likeness of cold marble. Chloe stilled, recognizing the silent rarity of the demon’s true rage.

“Forget it,” she murmured, looking away from those soulless eyes. “I’m sorry.”

As the broth simmered on, Maze relaxed in her seat, and Chloe felt her own tension melt away. The more she thought about it, the surer she became. Lucifer’s words played over in her head. She looked back at Maze.

“What did he mean by that? A ‘mockery’? A mockery of what?”

Maze regarded her coolly, though most of her initial hostility had vanished. Chloe knew she’d been on the mark with her conclusion about the stars. Maze’s eyes slid from hers and the distance returned in them. Chloe waited.

“I have no right to tell you this,” the demon said, surprising Chloe. Maze showing reluctance over anything revealed just how serious the matter was. Chloe merely nodded encouragement. She desperately wanted to know what had bothered Lucifer so much, and if she could somehow make amends.

Maze’s hands clenched and unclenched. She didn’t have her knives, or else Chloe knew she’d be twirling them in agitation. The demon’s catlike eyes narrowed and pinned her in place.

“I’m only telling you because I know you actually care about him. This isn’t for me to say, but I doubt he ever will.” She took a deep breath. “_Lucifer_ created the stars.”

Hush descended, save for the ticking of the kitchen clock.

Chloe cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. The stars?”

Maze tilted her head warningly. Chloe held up her hands.

“Sorry! But. You’re saying Lucifer created space?”

“No, I’m saying he made the stars. Space existed. Dear old Daddy and Mommy made that and were making plans for what else would be set out all neatly inside it when Lucifer,” she snapped her fingers once, as if to say that was that. “Bam. Galaxies. Suns.” She smirked. “Then God threw up a planet nearby and lo and behold, it prospered under your precious sun.”

The soup was all but forgotten. Chloe stared at her roommate for a long time. “Lucifer made the stars,” she repeated, somehow failing to grasp the concept despite coming to terms with a lot of outrageous facts lately. 

“Stop being thick, Decker. He’s the Lightbringer, after all. Or did you never learn that?”

The demon pushed herself back from the bar without another word. Chloe stuttered, wrestling with which question to ask first, but Maze disappeared into her room with a slam of her door.

In the end, Chloe did not push Lucifer into coming to the planetarium. And while Trixie raced around the rooms, cooing excitedly over the man-made galaxies, Chloe couldn’t help but feel they were nothing short of a knock-off.

“Were you ever going to tell me you created the stars?”

Lucifer slapped his glass down onto the bar with a crack. He stared at his demonic bartender as Chloe strode from the elevator. “Bloody hell, Maze. What else do you tell her while I’m not around?”

Maze shrugged. “Thought you didn’t lie.”

Lucifer sneered at her. “Omissions aren’t lies, especially when they’ve no reason to be mentioned at all.”

He turned to Chloe, plastering a brilliant grin to his face. “Detective!”

Chloe held up a hand. “The stars, Lucifer. Is that why you didn’t want to go to the planetarium?”

Lucifer realized what she was doing. She was being terse, badass Detective Decker. The one that burst into the interrogation room with quickfire questions that left the perp little room to think. He’d almost vomited up a “Yes, ma’am, I did, ma’am” before giving himself a mental slap.

“Now, now, Detective. Why don’t you sit and have a drink? What is this codswallop about stars, then?”

Chloe leveled him with eyes nearly as flinty as Maze’s. He cleared his throat. “Yes, um. Maze, two martinis, please. Dry.”

His demon didn’t answer, and when he turned around, she was gone.

“Some help I keep,” he muttered under his breath.

“Lucifer.”

He turned back, another wolfish grin in place. “You’re so sexy when you interrogate, Chloe.” He added an extra purr to her name. Only a slight movement of her lips indicated she’d noticed.

“Why would you keep such a thing from me? From anyone?”

He exhaled a long, frustrated sigh. 

“Because it isn’t bloody important, Detective. What difference does it make? Does it change anything?”

Chloe seemed to ponder this for a second. “In the grand scheme of things—”

He groaned loudly. “Not the bloody grand scheme of things rhetoric.” He stood and went behind counter to take a long drag from a random bottle. He didn’t care which. Gin, it turned out. “No holy roller nonsense from you please. It’s terribly unbecoming.”

She ignored him.

“Lucifer, that you made the stars…it’s amazing! Why wouldn’t you want to brag about it? You brag about all your other accomplishments. Your desire-hypno eyes. Your deal making. Your…prowess.”

“Oh, remembered that one did you,” he grinned again and sidled back to her side of the bar. “Can’t much brag about it anymore seeing as how I’m a one-lover man, now. All I can do is prove it to her. Over and over and over and…”

“Lucifer!”

“And over again.”

Chloe looked a little flushed. Lucifer felt a little pleased.

“Why won’t you even go out to look at the stars then?”

“Enough questions, Detective. They’re boring me.”

“Think of the implications! Think what would happen if people knew!”

Lucifer barked a laugh. “And who is going to tell them? You? Who is going to go up to Joe Schmoe on the street and say, “Oh, oh! The Devil made the stars. Tell him thank you in your prayers tonight!” I don’t bloody think so, Chloe.”

Chloe looked deflated for a minute, and Lucifer began to relax. If she’d just drop it…

“But how can you not want to see them?”

Guess not.

“Leave it alone, Chloe. Why do you think I chose the big city lights? There are stars everywhere.” He gestured at the TV with a leer in place. A famous, very attractive actor was giving an interview on some late-night show. Chloe rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, but Lucifer cut her off. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m rather put out of my mood.”

He began to stalk off to his piano, leaving her at the bar to go or stay as she chose.

“Don’t you miss them?”

He stopped.

And spun around.

“No.”

He meant it to be dismissive. Blunt. Final.

But it had come out as a croaking plea.

He cleared his throat. She stood.

“Lucifer if you’d just…”

“I don’t want to see the damned stars, Chloe. I won’t see them, not for you, not for anyone, so drop it NOW.”

His voice had climbed to the roar that made most people cower before him, apologizing and begging for forgiveness. But not her. Never her. He didn’t scare her. And for that he was eternally thankful. 

He just scared himself.

“Good night, Detective.” He turned away and vanished into his room. He didn’t breathe again until he heard the elevator open and close.

She surprised him one day with a blindfold.

“Why, Detective, I never would have guessed,” he crooned as she slipped it over his eyes. He laughed silently as she tied it at the back of his head. He could feel the eye roll she was giving him. “Very kinky, Lucifer approves wholeheartedly. Where are we going?”

He practically jumped when her lips pressed against his ear. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

His heated skin and pumping heart drowned out all other thought as she guided him into the passenger seat of her car. If he hadn’t been so gob-smacked, the Devil might have sensed the guilt coming off her in waves.

An hour or so later, the car stopped. He heard Chloe take a deep breath before she pulled the blindfold away.

Lucifer blinked warily in the receding sun, taking in the desert landscape. He turned an appraising eye on her. 

“Are you sure you weren’t the one who reattached my wings?” It was a stupid question, he knew, since the answer was a partial affirmative. He knew that now. Doing multiple good deeds in the name of this human woman and her family had contributed to their reappearance. And no matter how many times he’d hacked them off, it seemed each new day with Chloe, each new skipping heartbeat he’d felt in her presence, had added a literal feather to his proverbial cap.

Even so, seeing the desert again brought the memory of his wings’ sudden regrowth surging back. His shoulder blades itched, and he cricked his neck, straining to keep the bloody things from popping out and embarrassing him. He shook himself and turned on a leer.

“Or did you have a sandy twilight tryst in mind, Detective?” He glanced behind them into the back of the car. “Shall we share a sleeping bag?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

But Chloe wasn’t looking at him. She was staring ahead, out of the windshield at the oncoming sunset, her face rosy gold. _Exquisite_, he thought. And then he realized the late hour.

And anger flared bright in his gut.

“You brought me here to see the bloody damned stars, didn’t you?”

Chloe didn’t answer, but her eyes dropped to the steering wheel. Her jaw clenched.

“Unbelievable.” Lucifer opened the car door and shoved himself out, slamming it behind him.

The air was cool and he crossed his arms as he stalked several paces from the car. He heard her get out behind him, but he refused to look back at her. 

Silence rolled across the desert with the light breeze. His thoughts were wild with anxiety. How dare she kidnap him and drag him back to this thrice damned sandpit to see _them_. How dare she presume to know what was best for the Devil? The _King_ of Hell? He would not look at them. He’d close his eyes. He’d shut them out and imagine the flashing strobes of Lux. The headlights and spotlights and wonderful, drab boringness of florescent tubing flickering with their soulless utility…

“Take me back to Lux,” he growled as he felt her come to stand beside him.

“Tell me why,” she said lowly, “and I will.”

He snarled, his body tensing, his shoulder blades on fire. He felt his wings digging at his back. Eager to burst forward…eager to fly up and away if only to get away from the coming dark…

Chloe did not flinch under his rage, though he knew it was palpable enough for her to feel it. She’d flinched before. Like when she’d reached out to touch his scars, so long ago now. He’d snatched her wrist in a painful grasp, and seen her eyes flicker with a moment of real fear before concern had replaced it, and she’d embarrassed him enough to send him scampering from her sympathy.

Or when he’d shown her his true face, finally. And she’d cut of contact for—a long, long time.

This betrayal felt like a dim shade of that day though. Because she’d forgiven him eventually. Eventually they’d found their ways back to each other. But he didn’t know if he could forgive _himself_. 

Because now he wanted to shake her. Hard. Shake her until she understood what she’d done. Shake her—so maybe he wouldn’t feel so helpless.

He turned his anger toward her, and it died under her eyes. 

He would never lie to her. And he would never, ever hurt her. The day he did that, he’d be truly lost. He’d tear his wings off with his bare hands, plume by plume, before ripping the things out by the root. Chloe was his friend, his partner, his new and treasured lover. Innocent down to her perfect, little toes. He only hurt the guilty. And if Chloe Decker was truly guilty of anything, it was only of caring about a broken thing like him.

When she didn’t shy away from his rage and apprehension, Lucifer closed his eyes, shoulders drooping.

“I can’t bear to look at them.”

Chloe shifted closer. He could feel the heat of her in the chilly air. A small hand landed on his forearm. “Tell me, please.”

A shudder carved its way through him, that had nothing to do with the dropping temperature. His chest felt tight. Like his lungs wouldn’t work. It ached so badly, he felt it behind his eyes. 

“I can’t,” he managed to choke out. He turned his head away and blinked rapidly. “Don’t make me. Please.”

Chloe’s hand went to his shoulder. She stepped in front of him, and the other hand cupped his cheek. Gently, she drew his face back around so she could see him. “Okay,” she agreed, nodding. “Okay.”

And it was like with his scars again. Somehow, she’d cut through him, through his anger and fear, and soothed him. It was like the day she’d pulled him into her arms and whispered that she accepted who he was, and that she was there no matter what. Although this time he didn’t run from her kindness. Lucifer swallowed against the hurt in his throat and heart. He nodded along with her.

After a moment, where he’d laid his cheek on her head, and stared at the fiery sun still ebbing down the skyline, she spoke.

“Before we leave, can I tell you something?”

Lucifer pulled back from her arms, ready to acquiesce to any compromise, should it make her happy. “Yes.”

She took his hand in hers and they walked back to the car. From the trunk she removed two folding chairs and two blankets. They sat beside each other, wrapped in the blankets, the sun to their backs. A few more cars had arrived, parking a little way away. Families piled out, and began setting up chairs and small camps of their own, too far away to hear properly. Lucifer frowned in confusion, but before he could comment Chloe began to speak.

“My father would bring me out here every Summer.”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped to her face, intent now, forgetting about the strangers.

Chloe looked like she was far, far away. He gripped her hand in his, suddenly unnerved by the thought of her being anywhere but by his side. A small smile flickered on her lips, and she squeezed his hand, momentarily returned from where ever she’d just been. He gave a silent sigh, and watched her slowly drift back into the memory.

“Every weekend after school let out, he’d drive us out here for camping. My mother never came, but I think we all preferred it that way.” Her voice warmed with amusement, and Lucifer grinned at the thought of Penelope Decker roughing it in the desert. Chloe’s thumb ran absent minded circles over his palm. 

“We’d just stay out for a couple days, within range of one of the park centers, but determined to be real pioneers. You know,” she laughed, back again as she glanced at Lucifer. “Roasting hotdogs and marshmallows and sleeping in our weather resistant tents with a fully fueled truck at the ready in case of emergencies.”

“A real Annie Oakley you’ve turned out to be,” he couldn’t help but jest. She chuckled, and gave him a small nudge with her elbow.

“Those days were great,” she continued, nestling back into her chair, pulling the blanket closer. “He’d teach me about the plants and how to identify animal tracks. We’d hike around the rocks and just talk and talk and talk. We had no secrets. No lies.”

She went quiet for a span of minutes, lost in memories Lucifer might never be privy to. And he found that he was okay with that. That she had had such a connection with her father used to stir up his own bitterness. But now he was glad for her. Glad that she’d had such a figure in her life. And he found, too, that he was thankful that that man had helped mold her into the person she was today.

Lucifer let her have her memories. Content to simply watch them in her eyes, a play with multiple acts of fondness, sadness, but mostly of love.

“Our days out here were for talk,” Chloe tilted her head back, eyes lifting to the sky that had begun to purple in the semi-distance. “The nights were for silence.” She turned and looked at Lucifer. “And stars.”

Her thumb had stopped moving across his hand, and now she laced her fingers through his. When she spoke again, her voice carried a roughness he could tell she was trying to stave off. He tightened his grip on her.

“He taught me all the constellations. How to spot the major stars and even the planets when they were close enough to be seen. We’d stare at the sky for hours, watching them move across the sky, hoping for a shooting star so we could make a wish and tell Mom all about it.” Her voice pitched upward, mimicking a younger Chloe’s enthusiasm. “We saw a comet, Mom. We saw a star fly across the sky with fire burning along behind it.” Her voice caught and she swallowed away the emotion.

“After I knew all the names and facts he could tell me, we just sat and admired it. I felt like there was nowhere else on Earth so beautiful. Like there was no other view in the entire universe more captivating.”

Lucifer took in her profile, and the shining of the unshed tears in her eyes as she blinked up at the sky, and thought, _You’re wrong._

His partner sucked in a deep breath. “One year for Christmas Mom got us a telescope. That June we were nearly ready to launch a complaint with the school system for not ending the year sooner. When we got out here, we set the telescope up and urged the sun to go away, to give us the night sky. He let me look first once he got it calibrated.”

She went silent again, and the seconds ticked on. Lucifer felt a distant hum of anxiety in his chest the further the sun sank down, but he couldn’t leave her side. Couldn’t let her ride the tide of her emotion alone.

It ran high in her voice now, and he knew the tears were escaping her hold on them. “I couldn’t believe my eyes, Lucifer. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. I couldn’t breathe for the excitement at seeing the stars so _close. _Closer even than they feel out here, away from all the lights of the city.”

He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it. She shifted in her chair as if to press closer to him. She pulled her gaze from the sky and looked into his eyes. His breath hitched at the wonder there. 

“It’s the heaven I have trouble believing in. They’re miracles.”

And something in him woke up.

“Yes,” he wheezed. “_Yes._”

She’d seen them. She’d seen the stars and had named their truth. They were miracles. _His_ miracles. Not his Father’s, though he’d stolen the credit. Not his mother’s, though she’d never been much interested in the first place. The stars were his creation, his ingenuity, his _art_. They were the truest expression of himself at the time. All he’d wanted to do when he brought them to life, was somehow capture the essence of his family. 

The stars were portraits.

And he’d never told a soul.

When he was cast down from Heaven, a blight and a ruin, when he was shut off from his brothers and sisters, from his Mother and from his Father, all the warmth went away. He made no stars for Hell, because he could not imagine the purity and goodness of those better than him in the bowels of existence.

He didn’t deserve them.

And when he climbed his way out, Mazikeen by his side, the stars on the beach had nearly sent him scurrying back down. Weak and small as they were with the city blazing behind them, Lucifer could not, would not look up. He buried his hands in the sand, grit his teeth, and commanded Maze to cut off his wings, as his monuments to his family flickered passively above.

One day, he’d tell Chloe what the stars really were. Beyond their chaos and his need to one-up his Father in the birth of the universe. Beyond even their reflections of the Heavenly Host. One day he’d tell her that those were pieces of himself scattered across Creation.

_But maybe_, he thought, as he caught her staring at him with all the feeling that had accompanied her story, _she already knows it._

“Are you ready to go?” She asked, sitting forward, hand unclasping from his. The sun was touching the horizon now. His eyes flicked to the darkening sky quickly, and then back to Chloe.

In answer he took her hand back in his, sighed shakily, and shook his head.

Around them, more people had arrived. Small campfires were going, and they could hear children laughing. Food smells drifted up on the breeze. A general air of anticipation floated over them, and Lucifer frowned again. Why were there so many people out here in the coming dark?

“They came to stargaze,” Chloe said, reading his mind. 

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “Bloody tourists.” But he couldn’t tell if he was offended or flattered. Chloe laughed and got up from her chair. He grinned at her when she lifted his blanket to sit on his lap and snuggle against him.

“Well, hello, Detective.”

“Hello, Lucifer Morningstar.”

He kissed her because he couldn’t help it.

Soon the sun was nearly below the horizon, and they looked at each other for a long moment. Lucifer took a deep breath and nodded, and together they lifted their eyes to the sky.

And then came the stars.

Chloe was there, pressing her lips to his temple, when the sight tore a longing sob from his throat.

The silly, feeble scattering of stars that had greeted him on that beach years ago was forgotten the instant the scene above him took hold. There they were, shot across the night sky in glittering high definition. Waves upon waves of _him_. So many. He’d forgotten how many. 

The night was clear. And yet his stars clustered in such a way to appear like clouds. Dark blue, light blue, almost purple. The white lights winked and pulsed and thrummed. Euphoric. Like heartbeats. Like souls.

His cheeks were wet.

Chloe’s body pressed against his, and she whispered that they were beautiful. The night had gone utterly silent. But he could hear the Silver City and his stars in his head. Faint. Distant. But there all the same.

“Lucifer, look.”

He blinked, hardly able to look away from the sight above. But Chloe was pointing out across the desert, and so he followed the line of her arm.

People were fussing with telescopes. Children were pointing, whispering excitedly to one another. Couples were bundled up together under blankets. And all of them were looking up.

All around him these humans had come to the desert, solely to find joy in his stars.

They didn’t know they were his. Didn’t know the Devil was real. Would never associate the two entities in any way.

But the looks on their faces were real enough. 

The awe. 

The rapture. 

The peace.

Chloe watched Lucifer watching the people. Watched his eyes return to the sky. Watched the realization dawn on him.

Watching those sharp, handsome features soften and tremble under the weight of his Creation. A child laughed, and woman sighed.

A star rocketed across the sky, and applause burst from the onlookers. 

Lucifer swallowed unsuccessfully against his tears, and Chloe thumbed them away. 

The stars blazed on and the night shone.

Someone turned on their iPod, soft music swirling upward. _Look at the stars, look how they shine for you…_

Lucifer Morningstar laughed and swept his partner into his arms, smiling for the first time that night.

They danced beneath the painted sky, he looking down at her, and she looking up at him.

And stars were in their eyes.


End file.
